


Careful What You Wish For (You Just Might Get It)

by hhhhhhhappycow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, But I added a couple chapters, Gen, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, In the final chapter only, Iwaizumi Hajime is emotional, M/M, Pre-Relationship, This was originally a one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhhhhhhappycow/pseuds/hhhhhhhappycow
Summary: After an argument in which he wished he had never met his childhood friend, Iwaizumi wakes up to find his life has been seemingly stripped of all traces of Oikawa. He struggles to figure out what exactly has happened and, more importantly, how to fix it.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 30
Kudos: 255





	1. The Wish

The fight began with the scraping of a knife against a plate.

Iwaizumi lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The dumb glow in the dark stickers Oikawa had loved so much as a kid were still up there, like fireflies shining dimly against the night sky.

“Okay.” There was a shuffling noise. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi sat up and glared. “You barely ate anything.”

He had come over after finishing his own dinner to find that Oikawa’s had just been made. Oikawa had said he would take his up to his room so they could watch a movie. By a movie, he apparently meant tapes of Shiratorizawa games that they had watched half a dozen times over the past week.

Oikawa wasn’t looking at him, which was another bad sign; the silhouette of his face was barely visible from the flickering light of the screen that he was crouched in front of. The plate of food, still mostly full, sat next to him on the floor.

“I wasn’t hungry”, Oikawa muttered, in the tone of voice that told Iwaizumi not to push any further or there would be an argument.

Iwaizumi shuffled forward to sit on the end of the bed, legs dangling down just behind his friend’s hunched form. “Are you sick?”

Oikawa waved a hand, slender fingers fluttering as if to silence his friend. He still didn’t turn around.

“Stop worrying, Iwa-chan, I’m fine. I’m just thinking. You know how I feel about-”

“Yes, I know how you feel about Shiratorizawa.”

Oikawa finally turned to look at him, and his eyes were heavily shadowed, almost unreadable. “Then you know why it’s important for me to prepare for tomorrow. If you were smart, you would join me.”

“Smart?” Iwaizumi exploded, reaching out to grab Oikawa’s shoulder. “You think it’s smart to push yourself like this? What good will you be if you’re tired tomorrow? I had to drag you away from the gym tonight.”

“I’ll be fine, you know that. But there’s still more I need to do to defeat Ushiwaka.” Oikawa shrugged him off.

“You’ve done this before, and we still haven’t defeated them. It’s just a practice match, let it go.”

“That’s because I wasn’t working hard enough.”

“You’re ridiculous. How stubborn can you be?”

“At least I’m not as pig-headed and mean as you! And if you want to know how stubborn I can be, just watch.” Oikawa turned back around and crossed his arms. It was a childish move.

Iwaizumi felt some of his anger dissolve. If Oikawa wanted to ruin their chances, let him. Iwaizumi was going to get a full night’s sleep and do his best, either way.

“Whatever, fuck you”, he mumbled, settling back on the bed and shuffling to get comfortable. He would just wait here until Oikawa either got tired, in which case he could try again to persuade him to turn it off, or it became apparent that he was going to be up all night, which was when Iwaizumi would go home. Whichever came first. He stretched his arms back behind his head.

He had thought that would be the end of the argument but, apparently, he was wrong.

“Okay, you know what, why don’t you just go home?”

Iwaizumi blinked open his eyes to find Oikawa on his feet before the bed, his hands balled into fists.

“What?”

Oikawa’s mouth was set in a deep snarl, his eyes dark. “You don’t want to be here with me, so get out.”

“I thought you wanted to watch a movie, that’s the whole reason I came over, fucking hell.” Iwaizumi slowly got to his feet. If he exaggeratedly dragged his movements out, stretching and yawning before standing, out of annoyance at Oikawa, well, he would never admit to it.

“We don’t have time to watch a movie! We’re playing Ushiwaka tomorrow!”

There was a shrill in Oikawa’s voice now, a tone of anger and fear and panic. Iwaizumi stepped forward and grabbed his friend by the shoulders, shaking him lightly.

“We’re playing _Shiratorizawa_ tomorrow. We need you in top condition, not tired and stressed out. You’re only making things worse for yourself and everyone else when you do this.”

“Yeah, that’s me, making things worse for everyone!” Oikawa shoved at Iwaizumi and then shoved again when he didn’t budge. “Get the fuck off me!”

“You know what I meant! I’m only trying to help you, you shithead!” They were both yelling now, and Iwaizumi was surprised that Oikawa’s mother hadn’t come up to check on them.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need you!”

Iwaizumi felt anger flare in his stomach and he let go of Oikawa, storming across to the door. They had fought like this before, but not often. This had to be the biggest fight they had had for at least a year.

He stopped at the door, his mind churning in a whirl of black and grey and blue.

“Fine then! Go out and win the game by yourself with everything you learn tonight then!”

Oikawa was still stood by the bed, fists raised slightly. “Maybe I will!”

“I’ll tell everyone not to bother showing up tomorrow then! It’ll just be the Oikawa Tooru show, like always!” Iwaizumi knew he was being unfair, but now he had pulled a plug that connected his brain to his mouth, and the words kept coming.

“No! Fuck you! That is _not_ how it is, and you know it!”

“Is everything okay?”, a distant voice called. Oikawa’s mom. Right on cue.

Iwaizumi didn’t trust himself to respond to her right now.

Instead, he turned back to Oikawa, a shadow in the dark room in front of the still-flickering screen, and dropped the volume of his voice slightly when he snapped; “You do whatever the fuck you want, Oikawa, just don’t expect me to support you when you’re hurting yourself and the team like this.”

“Just get out already! What are you still doing here?”, Oikawa screamed.

“I try- and I try to help you and you throw it back in my face every time!”

“Sorry for being such a _burden,_ but I never asked for your help!”

“I’ll stop bothering then! _Fuck_ , sometimes I wish I’d never met you!”

“Go then!”

Iwaizumi answered by slamming Oikawa’s door.

He raced blindly down the stairs, finding his way by memory more than anything else.

Oikawa’s mom stood in the hallway at the bottom with a stunned expression. He barely paused to mutter a swift “Sorry” in her direction before he went out of the front door.

Outside, the world stood silent. Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks on the street outside Oikawa’s house. The streetlamp buzzed overhead and intermingled with the noise of the bugs, creating their own symphony in the background.

Often, when they had argued in the past, the cool evening air would cool him down. This time, it didn’t seem to be working. His eyes stung but he felt like his body was burning away any potential tears that could threaten to spill over.

A few minutes passed, and the cold finally began to seep in under Iwaizumi’s jacket. He should probably go back inside and talk to Oikawa, or at least text him.

But how would Oikawa react to that?

Iwaizumi had a fairly good idea: Oikawa would ignore him, if he caved first, and ask for an apology. He should just let Oikawa get on with it and then he could see the damage he had done tomorrow.

The thought of Oikawa snarking at him as he tried to apologize made his blood boil. The thought of Oikawa tired and upset after the game tomorrow made it even worse. He kicked at the pavement as he made his way across the road and into his own house.

His parents were talking quietly inside, so he simply called a greeting and went up to his room.

Sleeping came difficult, that evening. Partially that was due to their argument, and some of it was admittedly nerves relating to the game tomorrow.

When he eventually began to drift away, some time close to midnight, he found all of the worry seeping away with his consciousness. Let Oikawa be stupid if he wanted to act that way. What did Iwaizumi care? He didn’t need Oikawa, anyway.

*

When he awoke the next morning, Iwaizumi blinked groggily up at his ceiling. His head hurt.

After several seconds, reality rushed back into him. He remembered the night before. His fight with Oikawa. He wondered, idly, whether Oikawa had slept, and then tried to push away the ball of worry that began winding up his intestines into a knot. No. Oikawa had done it to himself. No sense in being concerned now. He had moved past that.

His throat feeling suddenly tight, Iwaizumi reached out to grab the glass of water by his bed; instead, his hand closed around thin air. Right. He’d been in such a rush last night; he must have forgotten.

He let his hand fall back down onto the duvet, and his eyes dropped down to his clock.

Shit.

He was normally leaving now.

Iwaizumi threw back his covers and jumped to his feet, then paused.

His room looked… Different. Strange. He wasn’t sure how, exactly: It was still his room, with the window facing opposite his bed and the wardrobe in one corner. Almost an exact mirror of Oikawa’s room, across the street. Their houses had been built at the same time, after all, shortly before their families moved in.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes. It was too dark still- the forecast had predicted a rainy day, settling into a warmer evening- and he was too tired to wonder anymore. Besides, he was late. Stupid Oikawa keeping him up.

With minutes to spare, he washed and dressed in his uniform before racing down the stairs. His mother greeted him with some toast, which he took gladly and scarfed down as fast as was humanly possible. He kissed her on the cheek before rushing out the front door.

Iwaizumi almost turned straight towards the school. Almost.

Instead of doing so, he found himself trudging across the road and up Oikawa’s driveway to knock on his door. Oikawa might have left without him already since it was so late, but Iwaizumi couldn't bring himself to believe he had. Even with their dumb fight, Oikawa was still his best friend, and no matter what arguments they’d had in the past, Oikawa always waited to walk with him.

To his disappointment, Oikawa’s mom answered the door. So he must have left already. Either that or he was sulking.

Faced with Oikawa’s mom, Iwaizumi began to feel a little ashamed of his behavior. Her eyes were harsh, and he hoped he hadn’t done any damage to their house when storming out so violently

Lowering his head slightly, he murmured; “Hi, auntie.”

His next words shriveled up on his tongue as her perfect eyebrows- ones which Oikawa had inherited- arced up on her forehead. “Can I help you?”

Iwaizumi looked back up at her, blinking and fiddling with the bag on his shoulder. After a moment, he said; “It’s me. Hajime.”

What was going on? Had she seriously not recognized him?

“Oh, yes, you live across the road, don’t you?” There was no hint of warmth in her tone.

Iwaizumi swallowed. “Er… Is Tooru home?”

“He’s at school I believe.”

“Thank you.” Iwaizumi nodded, the movement feeling overly formal.

“You’re welcome.” The reply came back stilted.

The door was closed behind him before he had taken two steps down the driveway.

What the hell? Iwaizumi hadn’t really expected Oikawa to leave without him, although it wasn’t completely unfathomable. That was a fight that had been building up for a long time, and he knew how much Oikawa had to have been hurting.

But Oikawa’s mother treating him so rudely? She had always been so kind to him in the past, treated him like he was family, allowed him to join outings alongside Oikawa and his sister. Even on the occasions he and Oikawa had come into serious conflict before, and she had been mad at him, she had never been so… Cold towards him.

The first drops of rain began to fall overhead, and Iwaizumi rushed to reach the school gates. Hopefully if he found Oikawa they could sort this out, before the game tonight.

*

Oikawa didn’t come to class in the first period.

Iwaizumi tried hard to ignore the fact that his best friend wasn’t in class when he entered, strolling casually over to his desk and slinging his stuff down.

He shot the boy at the desk to his left a look.

The boy simply raised his eyebrows in return.

Great. Why had he expected any kind of help there?

His bewilderment only increased when one of the girls, Mei, sat down in Oikawa’s seat, and even more so when even the teacher ignored it.

Huh.

After their first class, at morning break, the confusion got the better of Iwaizumi.

He, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa were sheltering under a tree outside, escaping the grey drizzle overhead. They could have stayed in the classrooms, however, Iwaizumi had wanted some fresh air and insisted on hovering by the exterior doors. Several other students were also passing by, moving in between buildings, but there was no sign of Oikawa.

Iwaizumi turned towards Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “Where’s Oikawa today then, hm?” Oikawa wasn’t the type to sit around at home and cry when he was upset.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa looked at each other, and then at him.

After a pause, Matsukawa said; “At school, I guess.”

“Right.” So clearly, they were in on whatever prank Oikawa was pulling. “Thanks.” He went back to looking around.

Oikawa had probably even got Mei in on it. That wouldn’t be too hard; she’d had an incredibly obvious crush on him since their first year. Hell, their entire class was probably in on it.

The only thing that was strange, Iwaizumi thought, was that even their teacher hadn’t mentioned Oikawa’s name when calling the register.

Iwaizumi frowned. How could Oikawa have pulled that off? Did he have some kind of blackmail material against their teacher? He doubted it. It was strange, though. Perhaps he just hadn’t been listening properly. He shook it off and looked back at his friends, opening his mouth to voice those thoughts, when the bell rang.

When he slunk back into class, Mei was still sat in Oikawa’s seat. He found himself watching her when he sat down. She didn't look uncomfortable or out of place.

Mei, oblivious to his staring, turned her page casually, and continued working. After a moment she looked up and threw him a confused glance, and Iwaizumi hurriedly looked down again.

_Where was he?_

*

Iwaizumi broke at lunchtime. He’d had enough of pretending as though he didn’t notice that nothing was wrong. It was time to apologize to Oikawa.

He pulled his phone out, tuning out of the story that Hanamaki was telling. He almost dropped his phone.

His background had changed. Instead of the usual picture of him and Oikawa and Hanamaki and Matsukawa, it was a photo of the whole team, in their jerseys, grinning in the gym. Iwaizumi didn’t recognize the image. It looked recent, but he couldn’t even remember taking it. Yet there he was, in the middle. Even stranger, he was wearing Oikawa’s captain’s jersey.

Something was seriously wrong here.

There was no way Oikawa could have done that, was there? Had there been some group photo he had missed, and Oikawa had photoshopped Iwaizumi’s face over his and set it as his background? How could he have done that without having access to Iwaizumi’s phone?

With a sinking feeling, Iwaizumi thought back over the other times he and Oikawa had fought. Oikawa had never pranked him during those times, not once. Hanamaki and Matsukawa and the rest of the team liked to mess with them both when they were frosty with each other- Iwaizumi had always figured they were trying to break the ice between them, and in a way, he appreciated it- but Oikawa would, depending on the severity of the disagreement, either ignore him or act like nothing had happened. This wasn’t just bizarre; this was insane. Iwaizumi was beginning to doubt his own mind.

He found his breathing had become shallow and struggled to get it under control.

Opening his phone- luckily, the password was the same- he flipped through his contacts. Once. Again. Again. Then through his contacts on all his social media.

No Oikawa.

Photos.

_No Oikawa._

“Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi looked up to see Yuda staring at him, his face drawn down in a frown.

“Iwaizumi, are you okay?”

Iwaizumi nodded mutely. “Excuse me.” He half-ran to the bathroom, ignoring Matsukawa calling after him to ask what was going on. He needed to splash his face and take a look in the mirror, to make sure this wasn’t some kind of nightmare.

*

Practice, as was to be expected, was incredibly different without Oikawa. They had played with Yahaba as their setter in games before, when Oikawa had been out due to injury or just running late, yet the second year seemed less confident and quieter even than on those rare occasions. The entire team was off-balance. Jittery, less sure of themselves.

Iwaizumi watched from the sidelines as some of the guys who rarely got the chance to play in big games- including Yahaba and Yuda- played a practice game. They were good, there was no denying it, but the nerves were clearly there, and causing sloppy mistakes. Maybe he should go over there and give them some tips.

He set his drink down and wiped at his mouth.

“Oikawa had better be playing tonight”, he muttered. Kindaichi, sitting just along the bench, gaped at him.

Hanamaki laughed. “Don’t say that in front of the first years, you’ll put them off.”

“They’re already nervous enough as it is”, Watari teased, nudging Kindaichi.

Iwaizumi stared around at his friends. So, they weren't pretending they didn't know Oikawa, at least. But what the hell were they talking about?

“What is wrong with everyone today?”, he mumbled, ducking his head and wiping the sweat from his face with his practice bib.

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “We’re playing Shiratorizawa, dude, isn’t that scary enough?”

“They’re tough opponents, sure, but we’ve played them before.”

“Hey, I thought we agreed that one practice game didn’t count”, said Hanamaki. “They didn’t even send their best players.”

“Why should they?”, asked Watari. He was smiling, yet his words came out more bitter than Iwaizumi would ever have expected from him.

Iwaizumi shook his head. He wanted to ask more questions but was afraid of what answers he would be given. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Yeah, we get it”, Matsukawa sighed. “You have to be positive because you’re the captain.”

“I’m…?”

Iwaizumi looked at the faces staring at him, from one to another. They were all watching him expectantly, no hint of cracking. Even Kindaichi hadn’t blinked at that statement.

He felt his stomach turn again.

That photo. Oikawa's jersey.

“I’m going to get some air.”

*

After practice, they had an hour’s break before they would board the coach to Shiratorizawa. Most of the guys were sitting in small clusters around the gym, eating various snacks, and listening to music.

When Iwaizumi saw Hanamaki get up and go out to the hall, he waited for a minute, and then followed him.

There was no sign of him in the locker room.

Iwaizumi checked the bathroom, and there was Hanamaki, washing his hands in front of the mirror. He didn’t look up when Iwaizumi entered.

He took a deep breath. This might be his only chance to speak to someone alone before they all piled onto the bus. He was glad it was Hanamaki, but he also wished it wasn’t. If anyone was going to stick to a story as part of a joke and keep a straight face, it was Hanamaki. Yet Iwaizumi had also learned that Hanamaki was a caring friend, and so he hoped that if Hanamaki saw how desperate he was, he would cave.

Hanamaki was staring at him. “Iwaizumi? You okay?”

Stepping forward, he dropped his voice and leaned into his friend’s space. “Makki, look, I’m kind of freaking out now. What is happening? If this is a prank, please just tell me. I won’t tell anyone you said.”

Hanamaki eyed him in the mirror, then chuckled and turned to dry his hands. Iwaizumi sighed in relief, his own hands coming up to grip at the basin of the sink. Of course, it was all an elaborate joke.

After a moment, he realized Hanamaki had stopped laughing and had turned back to grin at him. When he spoke, Iwaizumi’s anxiety shot back up.

“Did someone mess with your stuff? I didn’t have anything to do with it. What did they do?”

“It’s not that”, Iwaizumi choked out. His throat clenched. “Except, well… My… My phone…”

“You really don’t look so good. Are you okay?” When he didn’t answer, Hanamaki gripped his arm. “Were you sick at lunch? Do you need to go home? Where’s your water?”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and shook his head resolutely.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I felt a bit ill, but I just need a drink.” He opened his eyes and shot Hanamaki a weak smile.

No matter what, he wanted them to do their best and win this match. Oikawa or no Oikawa.

Hanamaki stared at him for a moment, uncertain. “If you’re sure. Make sure you tell Mizoguchi if you feel any worse, though.” He shrugged. “And don’t sit next to me on the way if you’re going to hurl.”

*

Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa were quiet by the time the coach drew into the Shiratorizawa parking lot. When they got changed, the entire team remained eerily silent.

Iwaizumi barely noticed. He couldn’t stop looking at the number 1 on his jersey. What if Oikawa had never been there? What if Iwaizumi had hit his head and dreamed his whole life? But the others had known his name, hadn’t they? They had acted almost as though they were afraid of mentioning him. Why?

He excused himself to go outside. Some fresh air might help him to clear his head. He leaned against the wall outside the gym and took a deep breath, listening to the same questions go around and around in his brain. All he could think of was that he needed to find out what had happened to his best friend.

Oikawa was clearly around somewhere. But where?

As if he had thought it into existence, he spotted a familiar face: Oikawa’s sister.

“Terumi”, he blurted out before he could stop himself.

She squinted at him for a moment, her face lined with confusion, and then she said; “Oh, it’s Iwaizumi, isn’t it?”

A wave of relief flooded through him, that she hadn’t treated him as Oikawa’s mother had, as a total stranger; even if she wasn’t the same as normal, it was better than that unfamiliar detachment. “Yes.”

She smiled at him. “Oh, did Tooru finally introduce himself to you, then? I probably shouldn’t say this but he always wanted to, when we were kids. He just kept backing out.”

Iwaizumi had no idea what she was talking about. “He did?”

“Yes. Whenever he saw you across the road, leaving your house, he would always point you out and say that you played volleyball, just like him.”

Another familiar face appeared; Takeru, racing across to grab his mother’s arm. Terumi draped it over his shoulders, hugging him to her side. The young boy looked up at Iwaizumi without any sign of recognition, merely childish curiosity, and Iwaizumi found himself shuffling his feet.

“He invited us to come and watch, even though it’s just a practice game since Takeru rarely gets to see him play, and he’s always asking if he can go and see one of Uncle Tporu’s games”, Terumi continued talking.

Iwaizumi stared, trying to think of something to say, anything normal. What did you say to a stranger that you had known your whole life?

His brain finally began to comprehend what she was saying. Terumi and Takeru were here to watch Oikawa play. If Oikawa was playing tonight, did that mean…

“Well, we’d better get inside.” Terumi began to move away, swinging her arm down to hold Takeru’s hand. “I would say good luck, but… You’re playing against my brother.” She laughed as she turned away with a wave of one hand.

Takeru waved over his shoulder while they walked into the building, still twisting around against his mother’s grip to eye Iwaizumi almost suspiciously.

Playing against Oikawa?

Another familiar voice sounded. “What are you doing talking to my family?”

Whipping around, Iwaizumi felt his jaw quite literally drop open.

It was Oikawa.

Only, it didn’t look like Oikawa. His hair wasn’t quite right. He stood more rigid than usual, and he looked tired, with bags under his eyes. And, what was more, he wore a Shiratorizawa uniform. Not just any Shiratorizawa uniform: Ushijima’s uniform. The captain’s uniform.

If Iwaizumi had any doubts before, he didn’t now: This was not a prank. Oikawa would never go that far.

Iwaizumi gaped at him for several seconds. Oikawa, if it was a normal situation, would laugh and make fun of him for acting so idiotic. But now Oikawa simply waited, eyebrows raised. He didn’t seem shocked to see Iwaizumi in his captain’s jersey at all.

Iwaizumi didn’t even realize Ushijima was behind him until a deep voice said; “Oikawa, you need to warm up.”

He jumped and looked around. Ushijima wasn’t even looking at him, although his eyes flickered down briefly after a moment and then back up to Oikawa. The hulking spiker was wearing number 2 rather than his customary 1.

Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa, who glared right back at him for a moment longer and then shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

He pushed past Iwaizumi, their elbows catching in the narrow space of the corridor, and then Oikawa was gone again, following Ushijima inside the gym.

*

The sick feeling that had plagued Iwaizumi all day swamped him and threatened to completely overwhelm him.

He couldn’t believe what was happening. He never understood before why people, in the wake of a major life event, talked about living like they were in a dream and praying they would wake up, but he got it now. Nothing felt real.

The game passed in a blur. Even Kindaichi threw him questioning looks when his spikes weren’t quite landing on target, and when he fumbled the ball before his first serve.

Iwaizumi was sure the only reason their coaches didn’t pull him from the game was that, to the apparent shock of many watching- Oikawa included- he was able to receive several of Oikawa’s serves. It was hard, sure, but it was something that he had had to become used to doing in practice over the years.

Suffice to say, they lost, badly. Iwaizumi’s ears rang so loudly he barely heard the announcement. He barely felt Oikawa’s palm touch his when they shook hands before Oikawa turned back to his own team to celebrate.

Oikawa wasn’t his friend. Oikawa played for Shiratorizawa. They had never been friends.

He thought back to their time at Kitagawa. Had any of that even happened? Was he really going mad?

His chest hurt and he struggled for breath, so he changed as fast as he could manage and rushed to the bathroom, waving off Matsukawa’s concerned look, to splash his face.

Iwaizumi almost wanted to laugh. Trust Oikawa to, without doing anything at all, mess him up that badly.

He stared in the mirror for a long while, getting so close that his breath steamed it up. That was his face, sure, but Oikawa didn’t recognize it.

Panic flared in his stomach. What if this was just how things were now? What if he never found out why, or how? That not knowing would be torture.

When he finally felt composed enough, he left the bathroom, before anyone could come looking for him and find him mid-reverie.

Only to halt in his tracks when he saw a group of Shiratorizawa players milling about at the end of the corridor.

Oikawa was right there, talking and laughing with Semi and Tendou. Ushijima leaned against the wall behind them, nodding and chuckling occasionally.

Iwaizumi moved as though in a dream, walking past Kindaichi who started and turned to stare at him, until he was stood several feet in front of the loosely gathered group.

Only Ushijima seemed to have noticed his approach; he straightened up and raised his eyebrows. The other three continued giggling over something.

This was a mistake. He should turn around now.

“Oikawa”, said Iwaizumi. He struggled to keep his voice calm. “What’s going on?”

The group’s conversation ground to a halt and they each spun around towards him. He felt the combined weight of their hostility as their faces twisted in glares.

“What do you want now?”, the man in question spat.

“What’s going on is we just beat you, again”, Tendou jeered, slinging an arm about Oikawa’s shoulders. The captain shook him off.

Iwaizumi didn’t look at Tendou. “Why are you ignoring me like this?”

“What is he talking about, Oikawa?”, asked Semi.

“I don’t know.”

Oikawa’s face had drawn down in confusion, and he tilted his head slightly as he frowned at Iwaizumi.

“Please… Just don’t pretend you don’t know me. We’re _friends_ ”, Iwaizumi said. His voice cracked and he winced at the sound.

His face pinched with a look that was both concentrated and absent, Oikawa stared at him with wide blown eyes. Iwaizumi had seen that look before when Oikawa had pushed himself with training and stayed up watching those he deemed his enemies until he seemed to enter his own world.

Then his face was hidden behind a shirt as Ushijima stepped between them, his large frame acting as an effective barrier.

“Just because you are neighbors does not make you friends”, Ushijima stated, his voice low and rumbling.

Iwaizumi wondered whether that was the truth. In a way, he had always thought that his and Oikawa’s friendship had indeed been built on proximity, the ease that came with growing up near each other. When he thought about it, that seemed bizarre. Was that all their friendship was? Convenient?

Oikawa nudged Ushijima out of the way and raised an eyebrow. “All these years and now you decide to talk to me, all because I beat you in a game?” His voice was teasing but still harsh.

Tendou snickered.

Iwaizumi took a step forward. “Oikawa, I know you. I know everything about you. I know you love volley more than anything in the world, except for maybe your family, especially your nephew. I know how much you like milkbread, and your dumb obsession with weird science fiction movies. I know you tend to push yourself too far, work too hard, because you always want to be the best.” Their argument, the one that took place less than twenty-four hours ago but which already felt a lifetime away, flashed into his mind. “I know you act all open and carefree but sometimes you can be so determined and stubborn and try to hide when you’re really feeling down. I know how when your grandfather died you wouldn’t cry at the funeral because you didn’t want to upset your mother anymore, so when you got home you locked yourself in the bathroom to cry.”

Another Shiratorizawa player- Reon, if his memory was correct- appeared from outside and grabbed at Oikawa’s arm, trying to pull him away, but Oikawa shook him off, his face pale.

“Have you been watching me?” He mouthed the words more than said them.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “I’m your best friend. Or we were best friends, until this morning. I don’t understand what’s going on? Why don’t you remember me or Aoba Johsai or anything? Why doesn’t _anyone_ remember?”

His knees were trembling. What would Oikawa say to that? Iwaizumi knew he was making himself sound crazy, yet if there was some way he could make Oikawa believe him…

Oikawa’s mouth was opening and closing, like a fish. Any other time Iwaizumi would laugh and point out his resemblance to the fish he had found in that book, the one that shared Oikawa’s name. Instead, he felt tears stinging his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. This was hopeless. He had gone mad.

Yelling broke the small bubble of tension that the corridor had been plunged into. Coach Washijou- and there was a terrifying man if Iwaizumi had ever seen one- emerged seemingly from nowhere, instructing his players to disperse.

He turned to Iwaizumi, eyeing him warily. When he spoke, it was with a sneer. “Hadn’t you better leave? The match is over, you know. Your team must be waiting for you.”

Behind Washijou, Iwaizumi heard Ushijima asking Oikawa if he was okay as they exited the building. He did not hear Oikawa’s response.

Soon, all of the Shiratorizawa players had shuffled outside, Washijou with them, leaving Iwaizumi alone in the corridor with the few Seijoh players who had gathered behind him at some point during his rant. He wasn’t sure who was there or how much they had heard, and he couldn’t bring himself to turn around and check.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

“Iwaizumi…”, Matsukawa’s voice murmured.

He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. 

“Ahem.”

Tendou Satori was peering around the doorway. When Iwaizumi met his stare, the wild-haired boy grinned and waved one hand.

“You, my friend, are cray cray.”

Iwaizumi didn’t have a chance to respond before the Shiratorizawa coach was dragging Tendou away.

*

On the coach home, Iwaizumi sat by himself and spoke to nobody. He was not sure who heard his outburst, though it would not be long before the whole team heard about it, he figured. He kept his face turned to the window to hide that it was flushed with embarrassment.

If this was his new normal, he should try to fit in? But, how could he? This whole situation was messed up. He screwed his eyes shut tight and rubbed at them with his palms, cursing when they came away wet.

As soon as they got off the bus, he avoided Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s questioning and concerned stares, and Kindaichi’s skittish glances and headed towards the gates.

He had hoped that going home might be a reprieve from thinking about Oikawa, yet those hopes were dashed almost immediately.

“Are you okay, honey?”, his mother asked when he came in the door.

“We lost the game.”

Iwaizumi didn’t wait for another question or comment before he stormed up the stairs, rushing to his room.

Upon entering, the thing that had been wrong that morning hit him.

His room itself was not any different: It was just that several things were missing. Anything that showed how deeply Oikawa was imprinted on his life was gone. The one jacket Oikawa would always leave in his room. The spare futon always kicked into the corner that Iwaizumi’s mother had bought when Oikawa staying over became an almost twice weekly occurrence. The Godzilla poster Oikawa had given him for his 12th birthday. All the small gifts given and rubbish left lying around. It was all gone.

He laid face-down on the bed. It felt like his heart was trying to hammer out of his chest.

Perhaps, if he just went to sleep, he would wake up and it all would have been a dream.

After laying there for he didn’t know how long, he lifted his head and blinked until his vision was no longer blurry. His barren room stared back.

Iwaizumi groaned and rolled onto his back. His heart had calmed down, but now his chest hurt as it had earlier, it hurt so bad he felt like he was going to burst into tears. He cursed Oikawa for what had to be the hundredth time, and this time it was with raw anger. How could he have gone to Shiratorizawa? How could he just turn his back on them?

There was a knock at the door. Iwaizumi heard it opening, and then a minute later his mother called him.

She called again when he ignored her.

Well, his day couldn’t get any worse.

Iwaizumi stomped out of his room and began to descend the stairs.

He stopped when he saw Oikawa waiting in the doorway.

He looked more normal, out of his uniform, with his face slightly more relaxed. Of course, Iwaizumi thought; it was the look he got when they had just won a game. An exhilarated, cheery smile. His blue coat was similar to the one Iwaizumi knew him to have, too. Similar, however not quite the same.

“Hi.” Oikawa’s grin spread even wider when Iwaizumi met his gaze. “Do you want to come and get something to eat with me?”

*

They finished eating around the same time that Iwaizumi came to the end of his long story.

Although the diner was largely empty, Oikawa had insisted on sitting right in the middle of all of the tables, right under the glaring overhead light. Iwaizumi kept his gaze trained on his food as he spoke, and when he was done he finally looked up from picking at his plate, unsure of what he would find.

To his astonishment, Oikawa was grinning maniacally.

“I thought about what you said”, Oikawa announced, “and I think I’ve figured it out.” His eyes shone under the harsh fluorescent lighting.

“Figured what out?” Iwaizumi couldn’t help a smile tugging at his lips, even as he asked. This was the first time all day that he had felt alright.

Oikawa spread his hands and said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world; “Why you remember stuff and nobody else does!”

“Why is that, then?” Iwaizumi shifted a little and reminded himself that this was Oikawa, Oikawa’s grin, but it was not Oikawa as he knew him. To the person in front of him, he was a stranger.

“Well, you’re not dreaming because I’m real. And I’m fairly sure you’re real because other people can see and hear you. But you have memories you shared with people who look and sound like the people here, except they can’t remember the things you do. So… We’re in two parallel universes, where the only difference- or the only one you know of- is that I went to a different school, and you’ve somehow crossed into my universe. Like the Mandela effect, you know?”

Iwaizumi could vaguely recall Oikawa talking about that before. He decided to play along. It was as plausible an explanation as any.

“Okay.” He leaned forward, lacing his fingers between them on the table. “But how? And why would that happen all of a sudden? I mean, there were no…” He picked at the tablecloth. “… Freak storms, or lightning strikes, or anything like that.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure. But all those freak storm things- those are just for movies. In real life, sometimes weird things happen with seemingly no reason. Only there is a reason, it’s just something we don’t understand because we don’t know the full story”, said Oikawa. “Things were still normal when you went to sleep, right? Nothing different than usual?”

“Yeah. Well, we- me and Oikawa, I mean- we had an argument”, Iwaizumi stammered slightly as he spoke.

He remembered what he said. It hurt to repeat those words now, even as Oikawa sat unaffected across from him.

“Hmm”, said Oikawa. “That could be why.”

Now Iwaizumi was wondering whether the boy across the table was the crazy one of the two of them.

“But how?”

“Not sure. Could be cosmic forces, or aliens, or just a glitch in the universe. Like I said, there are things out there we don’t understand.” Oikawa waved one hand. “I’m just saying, there’s a chance you could have been put here to realize how much I mean to you, Iwa-chan. Wait, can I call you that? You said that’s what the other me calls you.”

“If this is to make me miss you, it isn’t working.”

Oikawa leaned his chin on one hand and batted his eyelashes, his voice rising in pitch. “Rude. Are you this mean to the other me?”

Iwaizumi ignored the question in favor of sitting back and contemplating. “So, you actually believe me?” Or was this some cruel joke?

“Well… I didn’t, not at first.” Oikawa straightened up again, speaking slowly, his voice returned to normal. “I thought maybe your dumb teammates had set you up to prank me. Eyebrows and the other one.”

“They’re your friends, too, you know. The other you.”

Oikawa made a face before continuing.

“But I thought about some of the other stuff you said…” He looked away, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, I believe you. I’ve always believed in this kind of thing, in a way. Stuff that we can’t understand. But for it to actually happen, right in front of me…”

“I know.” Iwaizumi gave a small laugh that came out disgustingly like a sob. “You talk about this kind of thing all the time.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe it, either.”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Oikawa watching Iwaizumi warily while he composed himself and considered his situation.

Eventually, he asked; “So, what happens now? Do I… Go back, or am I stuck here?”

Oikawa shrugged and drank from his milkshake. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. In movies and stuff, you have to realize the truth, and it seems you already knew you had to find me, so.”

“What if there’s something else I need to do for everything to go back to normal? Or what if it never does?” Iwaizumi wondered, for the first time that day, about his parents. The woman who had greeted him that morning was not his mother if what Oikawa- this Oikawa- said was true. What about his actual parents, then? Was he missing? Were they searching for him? He felt sick again at the thought and struggled to ignore it. That burger had not been cheap.

Oikawa hummed. “That would suck for you. But at least you’ve got me, even if I’m not your Oikawa. Hey, do you think my version of you is in your world right now, with your family and your version of me?”

Iwaizumi jolted. It was almost as if Oikawa knew what he was pondering. He contemplated it, thinking of his Oikawa and how upset he had been the night before. Trying to navigate that, not knowing Oikawa…

“Maybe. If he is, good luck to him.”

*

Rather than going straight home, Oikawa insisted they go through the park afterward so he could ask questions about the other him. They walked around until the already long shadows grew longer still. Oikawa laughed at some of Iwaizumi’s answers and grimaced at others.

Eventually they passed by the lake at the center of the park, and Oikawa grew quiet. Iwaizumi was grateful.

They had so many shared memories here, and he could see them reflected in the still black water that stretched from their feet all the way to the bottom of the hills where they used to go sledding in Winter. In the Summer they would catch bugs by the shore, and every year Oikawa inevitably nearly fell in. Then there was that one time Terumi get in trouble, when she was still a teenager and her brother and Iwaizumi were small, for putting them on an inflatable and letting them drift out to the center. They had been afraid, watching the water spreading out for what felt like miles in every direction, and Oikawa had clung to Iwaizumi’s arm, something he would never admit later on, once they had been rescued.

Iwaizumi wondered whether this Oikawa had similar memories, by himself or with someone else. He pictured little Oikawa, drifting out on the lake by himself, so terrified and alone, and swallowed.

Their feet made sharp crunching noises that echoed across the water as they moved over the pebbles by the shoreline.

“You said I talk about this kind of thing a lot”, Oikawa said. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his jacket, but he swung his arms out when he turned to Iwaizumi, his jacket moving with the gesture. “People don’t think I’m… Strange, do they?”

He ducked his head as he waited for the answer.

Trust Oikawa to be worried about his popularity in another universe. Iwaizumi decided to be honest.

“You don’t really talk about it that much with other people. Normally just me. And sometimes some of our other teammates. Eyebrows and the other one.” He smirked at the thought of Matsukawa and Hanamaki hearing that.

“Oh.” Oikawa turned his face away. “I don’t think I’d tell any of my team. At Shiratorizawa, I mean. Well, I’ve talked to Wakatoshi a bit, but that’s Wakatoshi… He’s a weirdo, anyway.”

“Are you friends with him?”, asked Iwaizumi.

He let out a long breath before answering. “I mean, he’s annoyingly dense sometimes, but I suppose we’re friends, yeah. Took us a while, though. I can’t believe the other me hates him that much.” Oikawa paused for a moment, thinking. “Actually, thinking about it, I can see it.”

“What about your me? Do you know anything about him?”

Turning back to him, Oikawa hummed. “Not really… We were in the same primary school for a while, but different classes… We never met, right?”

“But your sister said you used to watch me- him?”, Iwaizumi probed.

“Ah. I guess I heard you played, and I’m always interested in my rivals. I thought you seemed… Intriguing. I just never had the chance to speak to you.”

“If you switch back, would you? Speak to him?”

They had passed by the lake now and entered back into the shelter of the trees dotted either side of the main pathway. It was rapidly growing darker, and Iwaizumi found it difficult to spot their usual trail.

“Maybe. You’re okay, I guess, and if he’s you…” Oikawa took a few steps in front and turned to Iwaizumi. “Do you think we could be friends? Even if we haven’t grown up together, like you and your Tooru? We’re pretty different people, it sounds like.”

Iwaizumi considered, his footsteps faltering. If he met Oikawa, without ever having known him, without having years of memories, would they ever be as close as they would have been, _should_ have been had they grown up together?

He looked at Oikawa. His face was earnest, eyes wide as he awaited an answer. His hair had turned from golden to vaguely silvery in the early moonlight.

“I think you could be friends”, he replied slowly. “You would just have to be persistent with me.”

“Good.” Oikawa smiled, and it was almost the usual sharp grin he wore when things were going right for them in a game. “I’m nothing if not persistent.”

Iwaizumi echoed his expression softly.

“I know.”

Oikawa looked at him for the space of a heartbeat, and then they continued walking, falling back into step. Without speaking, they diverged from the main pathway once more, taking a wide berth around the lake so that they could exit the park at the same place they had entered.

“So, when are you going to tell your Oikawa you’re in love with him?”, Oikawa asked out of nowhere when they had almost reached the gate, and Iwaizumi choked on thin air.

“Huh? I’m not- Why would you even think-?”

Oikawa’s eyes were shining from his calm, solemn face. “I might not know you, Iwaizumi Hajime, but I can tell that easily enough.”

Iwaizumi felt himself grow quiet even as his cheeks flared red. How could he…? Iwaizumi had barely begun to put a name to his own feelings over these past few weeks, when he wasn’t actively trying to avoid thinking about them, but for a relative stranger to spot them so easily…

Had Oikawa always been so perceptive? Or was it just this one? Did his Oikawa know how he felt, if they were indeed two separate versions of the same person and not figments of Iwaizumi’s deluded brain? The thought unsettled him. No, Oikawa couldn’t know.

Oikawa laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s not _me_ you’re lusting after. Well, not really.”

Iwaizumi glared and Oikawa held his hands up in front of his chest pre-emptively. “Kidding, kidding.”

*

They continued in relative silence, Oikawa asking the odd strange question- yes, you had a dog when you were younger, no, you don’t have any weird allergies or anything, you still have the same body as far as I know so why should that be different- until they reached their street. The stars were out in full force above.

“Hey.” Oikawa nudged him. “You’d better give me your number. In case you don’t pull a Cinderella and change back at midnight, I mean. I can check in the morning and if not, we can meet up and brainstorm more ideas.”

Iwaizumi grinned at how Oikawa looks almost hopeful at that last part, and handed over his phone.

Oikawa handed it back with a grin with an answering grin. “Goodnight, Iwa. See you in the morning, maybe.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you if I see you.”

*

When Iwaizumi got home, his mother- or not-mother, a concept which messed with his head because she one of the few people who looked and sounded exactly the same- was waiting.

“So, Hajime, are you friends with the neighbor’s boy now?”

“No, mom. I just talked to him at the game and we decided to meet up and settle everything afterward. Captain to captain, you know.”

It was odd, Ushijima not being the captain, but then Ushijima had never seemed to care so much about being in the limelight. Oikawa always had a way of making people gravitate towards him and he always looked out for the younger guys. He was a good captain really. And, as much as he might dislike Ushijima, Iwaizumi thought he was at least intelligent enough to recognize that.

“Well…” His mother smiled. “As long as you boys weren’t fighting.”

“We weren’t.” Iwaizumi shrugged his jacket and shoes off, then gave an exaggerated yawn. “I’m going to go straight to bed, I’m still tired from the game.”

“Okay, honey. Do you have any plans this weekend? I was going to ask if you could maybe help me in the garden.”

“Sure thing, mom.”

Once he got back to his still hauntingly empty room, Iwaizumi consoled himself with the thought that, if he went to sleep, he might wake up again in a world where everything was normal.

That was easier said than done, however. After hours of tossing and turning, he was no closer to falling asleep. If anything, his mind kept racing, replaying the events of the day.

His phone vibrating beside him forced his eyes open, and he squinted at the bright square of light before he accepted the call.

Oikawa’s voice came from the speakers, apparently unaware that speaking so loudly that late might not have been a good idea. “I just had a thought and I wanted to tell you, in case you’re not around to hear it tomorrow. Won’t this world’s version of you be surprised to find that I have his number?”

Iwaizumi snorted. He pulled himself from his bed and stumbled across to his window, looking at Oikawa’s window, diagonally across from his own. How many times had the two of them stood or sat by that window to talk, making obscene gestures at each other or laughing together or sometimes not even really looking at each other at all, simply feeling the need to know somebody was there?

To his intense surprise, Oikawa was already stood there, watching. His hair was messier now, more like himself.

Iwaizumi relaxed. The scene felt so familiar, so comfortable, that he almost forgot he was talking to a virtual stranger.

“Do you think he’ll believe me if I tell him?”, Oikawa continued, and Iwaizumi watched his heavily shadowed lips moving in time with the words in his ear.

He grunted, trying to keep his voice low. “If he’s been in my world all of today, I’m sure he will.”

“Hm.” Oikawa laughed softly, and Iwaizumi waited for him to speak again. “Hey, if you do go back tonight, tell the other me to go easier on Wa- Ushijima. He’s… Not that bad. And you’d better be nice to Goshiki, he’s just a kid. You do, however, have my full permission to rub any victories in Tendou’s face.”

“I’ll pass the message on.”

Oikawa glanced around, at something in his room, and Iwaizumi wondered whether Oikawa’s room was the same, or similar. Was it as empty as the one behind him, without all of the gifts and memories of their friendship? Or had those items simply been replaced by other knickknacks and treasures collected over the years?

When Oikawa turned back, he smiled. “Hey, it’s getting close to midnight. I’d better let you sleep so you can test our theory. Night, Iwa-chan.”

“Night, Oikawa.”

*

Blinking in the early light, Iwaizumi drew himself up into a sitting position and looked at the clock. It was the earliest he had gotten up on a Saturday for a while. Any other weekend, he may have laid back down and gone to sleep.

Mustering all of his courage, he looked around at his room.

The Godzilla poster was back on his wall. The spare futon was kicked into the corner. Oikawa’s jacket was still draped over the back of his chair.

Iwaizumi let out a long, low breath. His heart thundering, he pushed back his covers and made his way downstairs, pausing when he saw his mom. Was she his mom? How would he even be able to tell?

“Oh.” She glanced up, pausing the TV. “Hajime, honey, are you okay?”

“I think so.” Iwaizumi frowned. Why was she asking that? “Should I not be?”

“Well, you came home after just an hour yesterday, and then you slept all day. You didn’t even eat.” She made her way over to feel his forehead with the back of her hand and murmured; “And you didn’t even want to see Tooru when he came to visit. Do you not remember?”

Iwaizumi laughed to himself. “It’s... Blurry. But I feel much better today. I think I probably had one of those 24-hour sickness bugs. I should be fine now. I’m going to go over and see Tooru.”

“If you’re sure… Call me if you do feel unwell at all. Actually- wait here.” She disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a small box. “I put some dinner from last night in here. It’s just rice and tofu, it should be easy on your stomach.”

“Thanks, mom”, he replied, his mouth dry. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun.”

Iwaizumi proceeded to shower and get dressed. When he came back downstairs he stepped into the hallway, and then paused. “Mom?”

She was still watching the TV. “Yes?”

“Do you need help with the garden, later?”

His mother smiled. “Yes. I was actually going to ask if you could give me a hand. How did you know?”

“I don’t know. I just thought of it. Well, I’ll be back by lunch to help out.”

“Okay.”

He opened the front door and stood outside on the street for a moment. Maybe he had just been ill, and everything that he thought had happened the day before had been a fever-induced nightmare. He sucked in a long breath of cool air. Or perhaps, as Oikawa- or the other Oikawa, or the Oikawa that his subconscious had created, whichever one it was- had said, there were simply things out there that they could not hope to know or understand.

Whatever the case, he steeled himself and made his way across to Oikawa’s house. Oikawa answered the door after one ring of the bell and crossed his arms. It was his Oikawa again, hair normal, although he still looked tired and stressed.

“So, you’re done ignoring me now, huh?”

Iwaizumi rubbed his neck. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“I was really worried about you, you know. You’re never so ill you miss a game. We could have won if you were there.”

“I know. I’m really sorry.” Oikawa was still glaring, only his face had turned anxious and slightly suspicious, so Iwaizumi continued; “I just know when my body needs a break, unlike you.”

“Hey!”, Oikawa cried, but Iwaizumi knew he was forgiven.

*

Iwaizumi asked Oikawa to walk through the park with him and Oikawa agreed except, when they got there, he decided that they should jog instead.

“You need the training since you missed the game”, Oikawa sing-songed in an airy voice, poking Iwaizumi in the arm until he relented and took off running. Knowing that it was his punishment for the previous day, he tried not to complain.

They largely sprinted alongside each other, although occasionally Oikawa would draw ahead slightly, and Iwaizumi would put on an extra burst of speed to meet the challenge and push past his best friend.

When they ultimately collapsed on the grass by the lake, Oikawa caught him up on what he had missed. Apparently Iwaizumi had almost fallen out of his chair when Oikawa had sat down next to him at school; something which apparently Oikawa took as a symptom of his supposed sickness, and which caused Iwaizumi to cover a chuckle with a fake cough. Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi as though he had grown another head when Iwaizumi suggested he should go easier on Ushijima, but otherwise everything felt… Natural, again. Iwaizumi was home.

“Maybe we should go home”, Oikawa said, after several seconds of silence had passed during a lapse in their conversation. He picked at some grass and shivered; the sky overhead had grown cloudy, and there was rain in the air. He nudged at Iwaizumi. “You can come to mine for lunch. Maybe we can finally watch that movie.”

“Sure. I need to be home by midday though, I said I'd help my mother with the garden."

"In this weather?" Oikawa snorted, then sighed. "We'll have an early lunch then. And I'll come to help you with the garden, too, as long as it doesn't rain. She might give us snacks."

Iwaizumi followed Oikawa in getting to his feet, only he remained standing while his friend began to walk. After several steps, it occurred to Oikawa he was not being followed, and he turned back.

“What’s up?”, he asked.

“Oikawa… About the other night. I’m sorry that I said I wish I’d never met you. I would never want that.” Iwaizumi swallowed, tucking his clenched fists into his pockets.” You’re my best friend and such a big part of my life, and you’ve made me who I am. I was just concerned about you. I don’t take that part back.”

Oikawa laughed. “Iwa-chan, you really must have been ill, to get all emotional on me. You’re not dying, are you?”

“Can’t I just say I missed you without it being weird?”, scoffed Iwaizumi. The words came out harsh, but he could not prevent his lips from tilting up in a small smile.

“I was just kidding.” Oikawa shrugged. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. But-” He hesitated, looking down. “I just really wanted us to win.”

“I know.” Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa. He was stubborn, Iwaizumi had always known that. Sometimes it was strength, other times it was a flaw, and it was something that Iwaizumi likely couldn’t change, even if he really wanted to. “It’s okay. We’ll win the next one.”

They fell into step, walking without speaking for a moment, and then Iwaizumi heard Oikawa’s voice say, so quietly that he could barely hear; “I missed you, too.”

It could have just been the wind, though.

Either way, Iwaizumi pretended not to hear.

As they continued walking, Iwaizumi caught Oikawa giving him a tiny smile, his eyes glinting perceptively when the sunlight coming in through the clouds caught his face, and Iwaizumi thought maybe, just maybe, Oikawa did know.

He thought that one day he would tell Oikawa everything that happened on that Friday, about the other Oikawa and the other Iwaizumi, and how he hoped they’d found each other and become friends.

One day he would tell Oikawa how he felt, too.

But, for now, he simply met Oikawa’s smile and knocked their shoulders together as they turned back down their street towards home.


	2. Afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally decided to add a bit more onto this, since people seemed to want some more. Sorry it took a little while, I have about 10 other WIPs and I haven't even begun to post some of them.
> 
> Hopefully you like this! :)
> 
> *Also, if it isn't clear, this is from the POV of the 'other Iwaizumi'*

Iwaizumi’s head hurt.

It likely didn’t help that he’d been burrowed under his blankets for so long that they felt suffocating. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept for; just that when lifted his head, feeling a cool rush of air like a slap across the face, and tried to blink open his eyes, the shock of the natural sunlight stung. It was still early, it seemed: Birds chirped outside and he couldn’t hear any cars.

After a moment, he realized what it was that had awoken him: The familiar intonation of his phone, buzzing repeatedly.

He didn’t know the number. He probably shouldn’t answer it, all things considered.

“Hello?”, Iwaizumi said, answering it anyway. Why did he feel so tired? He flopped back on his pillows and let one arm fall across his face, staving off the reality of blinding light for a minute.

A cheerful male voice chimed; “Good morning!”

Iwaizumi frowned. It could be some kind of sales call. But he felt as though he recognized that voice. Whoever it belonged to, they must have pissed him off, because he instinctively said the first thing that came into his mind.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“So it worked”, the voice mused.

It took Iwaizumi another few seconds to place it: Oikawa Tooru. Shiratorizawa’s captain, his neighbor, and the root cause behind the most confusing, embarrassing, and irritating day of Iwaizumi’s life. Apparently, he wasn’t limiting his ruining of Iwaizumi’s life to twenty-four hours.

Why was he doing this? Iwaizumi barely even knew him.

“Oh, it’s you”, he grumbled, hoping all of his disdain would come across in his voice, and then; “Wait, how did you get my number?”

Instead of answering like a sane person, Oikawa replied; “What was it like?”

Okay, now Iwaizumi’s brain seriously hurt.

“What was what like?” More memories of the previous day flooded back to him. “Thought I told you to stay away from me, you freak.”

“I guess you don’t know.” Oikawa sounded vaguely disappointed. Iwaizumi removed his arm to glare at his ceiling, not having a face to fixate his disgust on. “Shame on the other me. Let’s get lunch and I’ll explain it to you.”

“Let’s not.” Iwaizumi hung up, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

*

He could only stay in bed for so long, however.

When Iwaizumi finally stomped down the stairs, he found the living room windows thrown open, the curtains blowing slightly in the breeze. It wasn’t unpleasant: There air was thick with heat, which the gusts of wind intermittently broke up. The kitchen door out onto the back garden was also ajar when he moved barefoot through the house.

“You’re finally up”, his mother called from the garden, and he grunted a response. She had thick material gloves on, and a sunhat. “You promised you’d help me in the garden today.”

“I did?” He supposed it was possible since he had largely been out of touch with the world since yesterday morning, but he couldn’t recall saying anything like that amongst his jumble of strange memories. Great. Just another thing he supposedly couldn’t remember that everyone else could.

Iwaizumi pulled on a pair of sandals by the door. As he stepped out into the light, wincing again as it hit his face, and grabbed the other pair of gardening gloves, strewn over a lawn chair, he thought back over the last day.

None of it made any sense. How could Oikawa- Oikawa, of all people- just show up in his class and act like he belonged there? And it was odd that it was Oikawa. Some stranger might have made more sense, or even somebody like Tendou when he knew it was some joke that his entire school was somehow in on. But Oikawa… Iwaizumi didn’t know what to make of him.

Despite living near each other, Iwaizumi had never known the Shiratorizawa captain. He knew of him, of course; most players in their area did. He was outgoing, annoying, flirtatious, and, Iwaizumi had heard, could be mildly obsessive. There had always been a degree of curiosity that Iwaizumi felt towards him. When they were kids, he had seen Oikawa across the road, but never had the chance to go over and speak to him. Yet that curiosity had been tainted with dislike in recent years, as Iwaizumi heard even more about him, and as he watched Shiratorizawa triumph over and over again. And now that gut reaction, the one that made Iwaizumi turn his face away, his stomach burning, whenever he saw Oikawa laughing among his friends at competitions, had proven to be correct.

How dare he show up at Iwaizumi’s school? How had he even managed that? And trying to act like it was his team? What was even more messed up was that Hanamaki and Matsukawa had played along. For that matter, how dare he show up at Iwaizumi’s house and speak to his mother, too?

He felt another headache coming on as an image of a phone background- his phone, most certainly not his background- flashed across his mind.

“Mom”, he said, glancing up from the weed he had been pulling from the ground with a little more muscle than was necessary, “if that weird boy comes around again, don’t let him in.”

“Which weird boy?”

“Oikawa Tooru.” He spat the name out through gritted teeth. A small beetle landed on his arm and he raised a hand to swat at it before pausing guiltily and using his hand to guide it down to the grass.

His mother lowered her shears from where she was clipping the hedge along the end of the garden and turned towards him. “Honey, I thought you two sorted everything out last night.”

“Last night?” Iwaizumi’s head whipped up, his gaze torn from where the beetle crawled among the lush stalks.

  
“When you had dinner?”

“I didn’t _have_ dinner last night, mom.”

“Did you lie to me?” She frowned, her hands going to her hips with the shears dangling at her side. “Were you fighting?”

“No.” Iwaizumi brushed off his pants and got to his feet. “I- I don’t feel well.”

Feeling more confused than ever, he went back inside and straight up to his room, flopping on the bed, and then he did what he had been putting off since he had woken up.

He glanced at his phone.

The usual picture of the team stared up at him from the screen, his own face in the center. No Oikawa in sight.

Iwaizumi sighed and then, his nerve renewed, unlocked it, and flicked through his social media. That was all normal, too.

He rolled onto his back. He didn’t quite understand what was happening, but it looked as if the weirdness had run its course.

His phone pinged and buzzed briefly.

Ah.

The same number that had called him earlier had just sent him a text. An actual text. The only people who still texted him rather than using a messaging app were his parents.

Sucking in a deep breath and preparing for more weirdness, Iwaizumi opened it.

**You’re probably really confused right now. If you want to know what’s going on, call me.**

Iwaizumi didn’t.

*

At this point, Iwaizumi had given in. Strange things were happening around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was simply glad that Hanamaki and Matsukawa had the same number of limbs as when he last saw them.

“Hey”, he said, raising a hand in a wave when the two of them strolled towards him.

Neither of them returned his smile.

“Hey yourself.” Hanamaki scowled at him. So did Matsukawa, but his glare was slightly milder, and he almost seemed to be smiling. Matsukawa could be slightly hard to read sometimes, when his stare got all intense like that.

“What’s up?”, Iwaizumi asked, already dreading the answer.

“What was going on with you yesterday?”, Hanamaki demanded.

Good question. Depending on who you asked, the answer was apparently completely different.

In the end, he settled on; “What do you mean? I was sick.”

“I asked if you were!”, Hanamaki snapped. “And you said you were fine to play! You _seemed_ fine after when you were yelling at that prick. So why the hell were you acting like that during the game? You should’ve just said something if you felt that bad!”

Iwaizumi blinked, thrown off by the sudden slew of accusations. “The game I didn’t play in?”, he asked slowly.

“No shit you didn’t play. You hardly did anything, Iwaizumi, you’re better than that. What was really up with you?”

“I mean, he didn’t do nothing, exactly”, Matsukawa finally spoke up. He turned to Iwaizumi, putting his hands in his pockets. “Have you been practising your receives just so you could stop Oikawa? That’s pretty ballsy, but you need to pick your moments.”

“Is this a prank?”, asked Iwaizumi.

“You keep asking that. Is something wrong?” Hanamaki’s face fell. “You’ve been so paranoid lately. Are you really sick?”

“Did you give Oikawa my number?”

“Huh?”

“No.” Matsukawa scratched idly at his face. “Why does Oikawa have your number?”

“I don’t know.” Iwaizumi glared between them, still upset with the aggressiveness with which they had confronted him. “He called me this morning and was saying some really weird shit. Then he texted me this.”

He held his phone up to show them the message and watched as their eyes flickered across the screen, their faces twisting in identical expressions of confusion.

“What the fuck?”, Matsukawa mumbled.

“Okay, back up a second…” Hanamaki’s frown deepened. Iwaizumi pocketed his phone. “When you said you didn’t play…”

“I didn’t play in the game on Friday. I was sick and went home that morning.”

“But you did play”, his friend told him. “You were there.”

He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. When I got to school, Oikawa was there, sitting next to me. He was wearing our school uniform, and you all told me that he had always gone to our school, and he was captain of our team-”

Matsukawa interrupted. He and Hanamaki were both watching his outburst with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying! I figured it was just a joke, but then even the teachers were in on it, and…” Iwaizumi pulled at his own hair, feeling slightly insane, but hoping it would convey to them he understood that, no, this didn’t make sense and, no, he didn’t have a clue as to what was happening either. Matsukawa opened his mouth and then closed it again as he continued. “I went home, I felt so confused and everyone thought I was ill, so. I thought I’d let you guys see what your prank achieved, getting rid of me before the game. I thought maybe I _was_ ill. But today everything is back to normal. Mostly. Except for Oikawa having my number.”

He looked at his friends, who appeared torn between disbelief, concern and confusion. They were finally catching up the mood he had been in for some time.

“Okay”, Hanamaki said after a few beats. “This is weird.”

“Maybe Oikawa does know something”, Matsukawa wondered aloud.

“Like what?”, Iwaizumi asked.

His tall friend shrugged. “He could have had the same kind of… Dream or hallucination that you had, where you guys were friends. You hear about strange things like that happening.”

“And he got my number from a dream?”

“I don’t know.” Matsukawa shrugged his shoulders again. “I think maybe you should talk to him, though.”

Hanamaki blurted out; “No way. This is Oikawa we’re talking about. He’s probably trying to get us back for last year, the toothpaste in his teammates’ shoes.”

“I told you not to do that.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms and glared at the two of them.

Ignoring him completely, they began to delve into the merits of putting toothpaste in shoes, and what other methods could be used to throw off your opponents in a way that was so unusual that even the coaches wouldn’t know whether it was against the rules.

Iwaizumi sighed.

*  
  


Maybe he should at least try and figure out what was happening. That would likely be wise.

Which was why Iwaizumi traipsed into the kitchen and buried his face in his mother’s shoulder.

“Hajime, honey, are you okay?”, she asked, laughing even as she looped an arm about his shoulders, the other continuing to stir the pot bubbling on the stove. “What’s brought this on?”

“Mom”, he whispered, feeling slightly pathetic, like a small child needing to be consoled. “What happened yesterday?”

His mother drew away from him and, still with one hand, brushed his dark hair back from where it was clinging to his forehead, resting her cool palm there. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No. A little. I just want to know.”

“Well…” She turned back to the stove, turning the heat down and leaving the spoon in the pot. “You went to your game after school, and you didn’t win. When you came home, Oikawa Tooru came to see you, and the two of you went and got food. You said you were settling some things, captain to captain. You seemed happier when you came home.” Whatever his expression was, it caused her to frown. “Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t hit your head.”

“I’m fine, mom. Just a bit of a headache. I’ll be good as new soon, promise.”

As soon as he was back in his room, he started composing a text to Oikawa.

**Hey, this is Iwaizumi Hajime.**

He stopped. Oikawa already knew that. He deleted it and tried again.

**Hey. Can we meet tomorrow?**

There. Short and to the point. He fired it off.

A reply came within a couple of minutes.

**Sure. There’s a park just a couple of blocks down, do you know it?**

**Yeah.**

**Meet there at midday?**

**Okay.**

Iwaizumi hesitated, wondering if he should add something else, then shrugged and sent it. What else was there to say?

*

He felt absurdly nervous waiting for Oikawa to arrive at noon the next day.

Those nerves turned to anger when he caught Oikawa’s grin as the taller boy loped towards him across the grass, trailing to a halt at his side.

Iwaizumi couldn’t help it: Generally, he tried to be rational and impartial on the court, but Shiratorizawa was one team he couldn’t help hating and, by extension, he hated their captain as well. This- whatever this was- had only deepened that hatred.

“Sorry I’m late”, Oikawa said, and his voice was deeper than the cadence with which he sometimes called praise to his teammates. “You know, we really should have picked a specific place to meet, this park is huge. I've been trying to find you for a few minutes now.” He sat down and then peered at Iwaizumi. “You look angry.”

Iwaizumi picked at the grass under his fingers. “Yes, I’m angry. How did you get my number?”

“You gave it to me. Friday evening.” Oikawa was definitely amused by all of this, if the smug smile was anything to go by. Iwaizumi’s rage grew, and he struggled to contain it. If it was Hanamaki or Matsukawa- or one of his other friends- acting like this, he probably would have snapped at them by now. But, since Oikawa was a virtual stranger, he took a deep breath and attempted to remain civilized.

“No”, he said, taking out his feelings on the grass some more.

“Is that it?” Oikawa actually had the nerve to chuckle. “No?”

“Just get to the fucking point already. You said you could tell me about all the weird crap that’s happening to me.”

“Alright, alright”, Oikawa said lightly, but he looked away and stopped smiling. “I don’t actually know how to say this, but since I don’t think you’ll believe me, I guess I’ll start anyways.”

And, with that, he launched into a story concerning Iwaizumi- or another version of Iwaizumi- a volleyball match, a diner, the Mandela effect, and a late-night phone conversation. He wasn’t a very good storyteller; with every other sentence, he launched into some tangent, returning to the earlier topic later. Iwaizumi attempted to piece together the narrative he was given in chronological order as if that would help it make more sense.

“Well, I didn’t really believe it either, to begin with”, Oikawa finished, “but if you can confirm it, that’d be proof.”

He stared at Iwaizumi expectantly.

“You’re insane”, said Iwaizumi.

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. It was an expression similar to the one Iwaizumi had seen him make on the court before one of his trademark killer serves, only the fact that he was also puffing his cheeks out comically detracted from it a bit. “So, what happened Friday, then? How did you know all that stuff about me?”

“What stuff did I tell you?”

“Well…” Oikawa looked away again. “You knew I liked milkbread. And stuff about my family. Personal stuff.”

He fell quiet, and they both stared out across the park, where people were milling around in small groups or walking their dogs or sitting by the edge of the shimmering lake.

“Friday…”, Iwaizumi said after a minute had passed. Oikawa looked at him and then away. “When I went to school, you were there. Or, this ‘other you’.” His mouth twisted like he was sucking a lemon, not fully believing what he was saying. “At first I was confused, wondering if maybe you’d transferred for whatever reason, but then all of my classmates and friends, they all… Knew you. And you knew them. I freaked out in the beginning of class, telling you to get out, but everyone acted like I was the one behaving strangely. They thought I must be ill, so they gave me water and sent me home. I actually thought maybe I was ill, I had a big headache, so I just went to bed and slept. Then, later, you tried to come to my house.”

Oikawa snorted, and Iwaizumi shot him a glare.

The Shiratorizawa captain cleared his throat. “What happened then?”

“Nothing. My mom came in and said you were here- well, she said Tooru was here, and it took me a minute to figure that one out”, Oikawa rolled his eyes at that, “so I said no, I didn’t even want to see you. She even got mad at me, telling me I should say thank you for coming to check on me. And that was it. I went to sleep again after, and then I woke up and everything was normal. Except for you calling me.”

“And none of your friends can remember anything that you can, right?”

“No.”

“So, doesn’t that sort of prove it?”

“I mean… It proves something.”

Oikawa tucked his knees under his body and leaned forward, looking like an excited child. “Aren’t you even a bit curious?”

“It happened.” Iwaizumi shrugged, feeling decidedly less calm than he was acting. “It seems like things are mostly back to normal, now; that’s two days in a row. If there’s anything odd tomorrow, I’ll probably freak out again. But we’re not going to know what happened or why. There’s no point getting into it.”

“I already told you why!”, Oikawa protested.

“Oh, yes”, said Iwaizumi. “The other me had to get over his argument with his friend or whatever.”

“Exactly.” Oikawa slung his small backpack off and, rummaging inside, produced two mostly-melted ice poles. He held one out to Iwaizumi.

“Thanks. It’s hot today.” Iwaizumi tore his open with his teeth and saw Oikawa doing the same.

“Well, that’s what happens during the day, it gets warm. Especially at this time of year”, Oikawa replied, although there was no spite or venom in the words. “So, are you seriously just not going to think about this again?” Once more, he didn’t seem angry or upset; just curious.

“Like I said, if everything goes back to normal from now on… Well, there’s no way to prove it wasn’t a hallucination, or whatever.”

“Hm.” Oikawa slurped down the last of his ice pole, and Iwaizumi stared. He ate it surprisingly fast. “Well, if that's all you're going to say, I need to go: I only came back for the weekend, so I need to pack to get back to school.” He got to his feet.

Iwaizumi shielded his eyes with his hand so he could stare up at the other captain. “Yeah. Well, it’s been weird but, see you, I guess. Thanks again for this.”

“What are friends for?” The look he threw over his shoulder at Iwaizumi felt oddly familiar, not quite a menacing grin but not quite a genuine smile either.

Iwaizumi sat in the sun for another hour, enjoying the rays on his skin, before he too headed for home. It was strange, he thought, that Oikawa would have left him alone so easily and so soon, when he had seemed eager to speak before. But, he told himself, he should be happy about that. If Oikawa just left him alone, maybe everything could just go back to how it was supposed to be.

*

“So”, Matsukawa asked on Monday at lunch. “Did you speak to Oikawa?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi stabbed at his salad angrily, trying to get it in a solid grip so he could eat some of it. “He thinks I went to a parallel universe. Apparently, he talked to me yesterday.”

Matsukawa raised his thick eyebrows. “Huh.”

Hanamaki shook his head. “He’s a weird guy.”

“Yeah”, said Iwaizumi.

*

**How was your week?**

**Why are you texting me? Just because we’re meant to be friends in some other universe doesn’t make us friends now.**

**We could be friends if you wanted.**

**No. I can’t be friends with someone who plays for Shiratorizawa. Just on principle.**

**Mean, Iwa-chan.**

**Don’t fucking call me that ever again.**

*

Iwaizumi wasn’t quite sure what made him do it. He chalked it up to it being a slow, boring Thursday evening with both of his parents being out. And, if he was going to talk to Oikawa at all- the other boy kept messaging him, annoyingly- he would rather it be about something normal, rather than what they had been discussing so far.

**What made you want to become a setter?**

**Iwaizumi! You’re texting me!!!**

Iwaizumi winced as if each exclamation point was a punch to the chest.

**You know what nevermind.**

He typed the response quickly, and he thought that might have been the end of the conversation because Oikawa’s reply took a few minutes to come through.

**I wanted to become a setter because I saw this one guy who was crazy good at it. He worked so well with all of his teammates and helped them achieve their best. I wanted to do that, too.**

**Huh.**

He paused, and then added:

**But you still went to Shiratorizawa. I thought they were less of a ‘we all work together to improve’ kind of team and more of a ‘we cater to our star’s every whim’ kind of team.**

A series of three texts came through in rapid-fire succession:

**You don’t know what you’re talking about.**

**Ushijima isn’t like that. The other you hated him, too, I don’t get it. I did have to talk to him a couple of times in first year about what he expected of me, but that was more because of some miscommunications. We got there in the end.**

**What about you? Why are you a wing spiker?**

Iwaizumi snorted and stared at his ceiling. Like he even had to think about that one.

**Because it’s the coolest position.**

**Really?**

He wasn’t sure whether Oikawa was being genuine or sarcastic. He answered anyway.

**No. It’s because I’m good at it, I guess. And I like being the guy to score the points. When your team is losing, and they all look to you, and you get that perfect cross shot in, it’s the best feeling.**

**But you can’t do it without the setter.**

**Of course not, dumbass. Your team is more than just you.**

**Don’t be mean to me, Iwa-chan.**

Iwaizumi put the phone down. When he looked at it again, several more messages had appeared:

**Iwaizumi?**

**If you ignore me, I’m just going to keep saying it to annoy you.**

**Iwa-chan.**

**Iwa-chan.**

**Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan.**

He could just ignore it. But he knew it would annoy him, trying to sleep that night.

**Stop, I’m tired and you’re annoying**

**Oh. Sorry.**

Iwaizumi rolled onto his side, waiting for another text to come through. None did.

After a while, he started scrolling through his social media, glancing over whatever garbage his friends were posting. For some reason, he couldn’t help but think about the possibly imaginary posts he had seen on his phone the other day, the majority of which involved Oikawa smiling into the camera while he scowled in the background. They hadn't even been good photos.

If there was another Iwaizumi out there, he decided, he had terrible taste.

*

Knocking on the front door was what awoke Iwaizumi that Saturday morning. It went on for quite some time.

Iwaizumi groaned, throwing his covers back, and wondering where his mother was. Probably in the garden: It seemed to have become her weekend project.

He trudged down the stairs and cracked open the door, scowling when he saw Oikawa standing on the stoop.

“Hey”, he said, “want to come play with me?” He gave a huge grin and that, combined with the childishness of the sentence, made Iwaizumi imagine for a second that he and Oikawa were small children again, friends this time, and this was a regular occurrence for them.

He didn’t think to voice that to Oikawa, though. “Why are you here?”

“I decided to come home again. To see my best friend.” The impish grin was still there, but Iwaizumi could hear the veneer of sarcasm over his words.

He crossed his arms and considered it. Oikawa’s face began to fall. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Oikawa lit back up, his expression a mixture of relief and anticipation. “Be quick.”

Iwaizumi turned tail, leaving the front door open, and climbed up the stairs.

Practicing with Oikawa didn’t mean they were friends, not necessarily. It was just that it was valuable to practice with someone who was, admittedly, a tough opponent.

It took him maybe fifteen minutes to brush his teeth, shower, and throw on some clean clothes. That was all the time Oikawa needed to befriend his mother, apparently.

When he came back downstairs, hair still damp, the two of them were standing in the living room, chattering away. His mother’s gardening gloves were tucked in the crook of her elbow, and she was nodding along to whatever Oikawa was saying.

“Oh, Hajime”, she said, turning towards him when he entered the kitchen as if she hadn’t expected him to appear, “Tooru was just clearing up everything about your little meeting the other night.”

“He was?”, Iwaizumi asked. He tried to make that question as threatening as possible.

“It can be really tricky, being friends with someone on another team, especially when all of your friends hate each other”, said Oikawa. His smarmy grin was turned on Iwaizumi’s mother, who had a doting smile that Iwaizumi had maybe seen her use with a handful of his friends back in elementary school when they came to visit. “We’re like Romeo and Juliet, in a way”, Oikawa added, laying it on thick.

Iwaizumi just glared.

“You boys have fun!”

“We will!” Oikawa waved so enthusiastically that Iwaizumi thought he might sprain his wrist.

Iwaizumi had him in a headlock as soon as the front door closed behind them.

*

The two of them did have fun. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline- probably it was just the adrenaline, Iwaizumi told himself- but he always found someone to be much more likeable after a few hours of volleyball practice together.

Oikawa was annoying, that much was true. But not necessarily in a bad way. He just ran his mouth too much and liked to brag when he had the upper hand. Iwaizumi had known other guys like that, and he could deal with it. He was a good player, at least, Iwaizumi had to admit, so the conceitedness was justified a little.

“You know”, Oikawa said when they collapsed on his couch, each holding a cool glass of water, “I think the other you was a better player.”

Iwaizumi jabbed him in the side and he yelped in protest and wriggled away.

“I still think you imagined it.”

Oikawa merely grunted. He got comfortable on the other end of the couch before draining his glass.

Taking a sip from his own, Iwaizumi looked about. The living room was light and open, connecting on one side to a hallway that led upstairs, and at the back a narrow kitchen joining onto the garden. Structurally, it was similar to his own, although that shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering they had been built at the same time.

There was the sound of the front door opening and closing, and a jangling of keys. A woman who couldn’t have been anybody other than Oikawa’s mother entered; she had a classically beautiful face, and thick dark hair that tumbled about her shoulders.

She stopped when she spotted Iwaizumi, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh. Good afternoon.”

“Mom, this is Hajime”, Oikawa said casually. “He lives across the street.”

“Yes, I remember.” Oikawa’s mother gave him a small smile, before continuing in her course through to the kitchen, keys still swinging in her hand.

“Come on”, Oikawa said, turning to Iwaizumi and knocking their knees together. “You wanna come up to my room?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Oikawa’s room was as strange as he himself was. It was neat, Iwaizumi supposed, yet dotted with the strangest paraphernalia. There was a bed, with purple and white bedsheets, on which an alien plushie and a stuffed volleyball cushion sat. Several large posters obscured the walls, some of various volleyball players in various positions as they spiked, set, and received the ball; others of movie posters; and a couple of maps.

Yet, it felt like there was something missing. There were no photos, no trophies, no books, no personal items of clothing lying about or oddment on the windowsills. It made sense, given that this wasn’t where Oikawa really lived, but the musty air made it seem as though a layer of dust had settled across everything there, preserving it. Iwaizumi would expect to see it in a museum, as an exhibit recreating an average Japanese teenage boy’s room in the early twenty-first century.

“So?”, Oikawa asked, rocking on his heels. “What do you think?”

“Huh.” Iwaizumi blew air out through his nose in a rush. “You really are a weirdo.”

Oikawa’s face broke in despair. “Iwaizumi!” He put his hands on his hips and huffed, his genuine sorrow turned pantomime. “I took you in and showed you my private space, and you’re just making fun of me.”

“Yeah.”

There wasn't even a chair to the desk against the far wall, so Iwaizumi sat down on the carpet. Oikawa looked at him for a moment, and Iwaizumi half-expected him to protest, but then he slumped onto the bed.

Ten minutes later, they were both laying down, Oikawa on the bed and Iwaizumi on the floor, while Oikawa read stories about the Mandela Effect- the thing he’d been trying to tell Iwaizumi about the week before- aloud off of his phone.

“… And he didn’t speak any language known to man”, Oikawa finished. It sounded like he had tried to finish with a dramatic flourish, but his throat must have been scratchy because his voice just came across as robotic after having read so many.

Iwaizumi snorted. “Sounds like all of those people were crazy.”

There was a thump that he recognized as Oikawa throwing his phone down on the bed.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy how just a few small moments or decisions can change our lives so much?”, Oikawa asked. If Iwaizumi had to picture what he looked like just then, he would imagine Oikawa would be staring up at the ceiling, arms linked behind his head as a pillow, a small frown on his face.

Iwaizumi lifted his head. “I thought that was the butterfly effect.”

The brunet groaned. “I’m done with all of these effects.” He paused. “It worked out in a way though, because we’re friends now.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Iwa-chan!”

“Say that again and I’ll hit you”, warned Iwaizumi. “We are rivals.”

There was a creaking as Oikawa rolled over, and then his face appeared, peering down over the end of the bed. It hung a couple of feet above Iwaizumi, the normally perfectly groomed brown strands flopping about. Even Oikawa’s hair couldn’t defy gravity.

“That could be even better than friends”, he said.

Iwaizumi squinted. “How?”

“We can push each other to improve.”

“No thanks.” Iwaizumi closed his eyes and shuffled to get comfortable, feigning at ignoring Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan!”

“That’s it!”

His eyes shot open. He saw the exact second that Oikawa’s own face took on a panicked look, and then he vanished.

Iwaizumi jumped to his feet and then onto the bed. Oikawa was already scrambling across it, his legs twisted and caught up in his blankets. As Iwaizumi watched he fell off of the other end, crawling around the room to get away.

Iwaizumi followed, dropping to his knees after vaulting the rest of the mattress and crawling after him. He vaguely noted Oikawa’s phone dropping from the bed as the frame shook.

“No, no, Iwa-chan, go away”, Oikawa was repeating, half-shrieking and laughing at the same time.

Iwaizumi finally cornered him against the wall, sitting by his side and looming threateningly over him. Oikawa held his hands up in defense and tucked his head behind them.

“Don’t hit me”, he whispered.

“What did you call me?”, Iwaizumi boomed, making a show of it, yet even he couldn’t help chuckling as he spoke, his breathing shallow in the small space.

Oikawa looked up, and Iwaizumi caught an evil glint into his eye as it peeked above his knees. That was the Oikawa he knew: The triumphant shit-talker. “Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi grabbed at his wrists, feeling the slide of the surprisingly smooth skin against his palms when Oikawa strained to get away and tried to move them away from Oikawa’s face. When that failed, he poked him in the side.

Oikawa yelped and dropped his hands, managing to wriggle past Iwaizumi and press himself flat against the wall on the opposite side of the room, underneath a poster advertising some science fiction movie Iwaizumi had never seen.

A faint voice called; “Everything okay up there?”

“We’re fine, mom”, Oikawa called back, turning his head to the side without taking his wary eyes away from Iwaizumi.

The two of them continued to stare at each other for several more seconds, assessing what the next move would be, and slowly their breathing evened out. Instead of attacking Oikawa again, Iwaizumi decided he had had enough, and sat down on the floor. Oikawa sat next to him.

The room really was like his own, he thought, except very bare. Most of Oikawa’s stuff was probably in his room at Shiratorizawa. He wondered what he had there. His gaze was travelling over a stack of comics in one corner behind the bed, previously hidden to him, when Oikawa nudged him with his foot.

Once Iwaizumi turned to look at him, he said; “I really did always think we would be friends.”

“How come?”

“I said, before. We both play volleyball.”

“Is that enough for us to be friends?”

The two of them hadn’t broken eye contact at all, but now Oikawa’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and he turned away when he spoke.

“No. You know how sometimes you look at someone and just know you could get along with them?”

“Yeah. But I never had that feeling with you.” Iwaizumi thought of the few times he had seen Oikawa, rubbing his win in his opponents’ faces by throwing them smirks and then celebrating loudly with his own team, whenever he had seen Shiratorizawa play at tournaments. He had certainly never imagined they would ever be more than vaguely antagonistic strangers to each other.

Oikawa didn’t look around. “Mm. I guess I can be a kind of difficult person to like.”

“You can say that again.” He felt mean all of a sudden. “You’re okay, though. I mean, you’re not so bad.”

“Thanks.”

Iwaizumi wondered if he was imagining the pink hue tinging Oikawa’s cheeks. Maybe not: With a personality like that, the poor guy couldn't get many compliments.

“I don’t think I’m going to come home next weekend”, Oikawa announced after some time had passed in which they sat in silence. “I promised Goshiki I’d practice with him.”

“Okay.” It didn’t really make a difference to Iwaizumi what Oikawa did.

“Maybe the weekend after I will, though”, he. He looked back at Iwaizumi. “We could meet up then, maybe.”

“We could practice again?”, Iwaizumi suggested.

Oikawa’s mouth stretched wide in a grin. “Sure!”

Iwaizumi grinned, too.

*

_Several Months Later_

It was a late Friday evening when Iwaizumi wandered to the park after school. He felt weary: It had been almost a whole week since Interhigh, and the loss still stung. Not that they had expected to win; it was just that, this year, he genuinely believed they’d stood a good chance.

Oikawa wasn’t sitting in their usual spot: Instead, he was squatted by the lake, still in his uniform. He didn’t turn his head as Iwaizumi approached, staring out over the water. The low sun created pleasant golden patterns that shifted in the low breeze.

“Hey.”

“Hey”, Oikawa replied. He exhaled and stretched. Once Iwaizumi had sat down beside him, he noticed that Oikawa’s bag was there with him: He hadn’t been home yet either, then. Iwaizumi glanced back up in time to catch a pair of wide brown eyes turning in his direction. “Sorry you didn’t make it to Nationals.”

The familiar ache ripped through his chest at the thought, recalling his friends’ disappointed faces when they all shook hands, and after, the tortuously long bus ride home. As captain, he had tried hard to maintain his composure until the very end.

Pushing everything away, he tried to focus on Oikawa. What had Oikawa done, he wondered, when faced with the same situation? He would ask later.

“It’s okay”, he murmured, for now, picking idly at a weed near his feet. “Well, actually, it sucks, but there’s nothing we can do now. Just have to focus on the future. I’m sorry you didn’t get to go again, either.”

Oikawa blew some air from the corner of his mouth. “Karasuno, huh? Who would’ve thought?”

“Yeah. You know, I knew their setter in middle school.”

“Kageyama?”

“He was a good kid. Really talented.”

Oikawa snorted. “Seems like an asshole to me.”

“Takes one to know one”, Iwaizumi teased lightly.

When Oikawa didn’t reply he looked him up and down. He seemed drained: His eyes were sunken, with bags underneath, and his face was pale, cold-toned where there were usually warm colours dancing underneath his skin.

“Have you been staying up late again?”, he asked; not really an accusation, just a question.

Oikawa looked guilty regardless. “I’ve been trying to sleep earlier, I swear. I’ve just been thinking, lately…”

Iwaizumi shifted. “About what?”

“The other you. I hope he got back okay. Back to his Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. He thought they were past that.

He still didn’t know how to explain what had happened to him, but he also didn’t truly believe Oikawa’s insane theory. The thought of there being more than one version of him out there was kind of creepy. And he didn’t want to think about the ‘other Oikawa’ he’d met, parading about in a Seijoh uniform. He still posited that it was some kind of shared hallucination.

Oikawa had tried explaining his theory to Hanamaki and Matsukawa recently, too, over group chat, and immediately became their favorite target. It really had been a mistake to invite him. Hanamaki explained privately to Iwaizumi that, in a way, he did believe in the multiverse theory, he just wanted to mess with the Shiratorizawa captain. Iwaizumi joined in with ganging up on Oikawa, but at the same time… It felt nice, having Oikawa there, even when he was setting himself up as an easy target for the Seijoh guys to bully him. Iwaizumi had always had friends, but never really a best friend, and he had occasionally thought something was missing whenever he hung out with his group. And now, maybe, he got why.

That didn’t mean Oikawa’s theory was right, though.

Normally he would argue. Today, Iwaizumi simply shook his head.

“I’m sure he did.”

He peeked up at Oikawa, smiling, and Oikawa gave him a tiny smile back. His face had relaxed slightly, become the most carefree that Iwaizumi had seen it since the tournament. His hair was ruffled slightly by the wind, and it made Iwaizumi think of that other Oikawa. But he wasn’t like that other one at all, his Oikawa, in his Shiratorizawa uniform.

Iwaizumi got to his feet and reached down to help Oikawa up. “Come on. My mom wants you to come to dinner. She wants to try your mom’s soup recipe. We can drop your stuff at home on the way.”

Accepting the help, Oikawa stretched and stood. However, when Iwaizumi started walking, he didn’t move, still facing the lake and clasping Iwaizumi’s hand.

Iwaizumi turned back to him, confused.

“Oikawa? Are you okay?”

“I’m thankful to them. The other us. Because I finally got to talk to you.” He spoke quietly, so much so that the words were almost lost.

But Iwaizumi heard, and so he smiled and squeezed Oikawa’s hand.

After a moment, he said; “But for real, let’s go.”

“They deserve to be happy, too. Like us.” Oikawa was putting on a dramatic voice now, one that was deliberately crafted to sound ridiculous as he stared off into the sunset, and Iwaizumi shook his head. He had gotten used to this, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not.

“I’m sure they are. Wherever they are”, he replied, giving Oikawa a tug. Oikawa remained immovable: Iwaizumi forgot, sometimes, how strong he was. Not as strong as Iwaizumi, of course, but strong.

Oikawa just nodded and hummed, but his eyes focused and he turned away from the inky lake when Iwaizumi tugged at his arm again. He looked at Iwaizumi, smiled and squeezed his fingers before dropping his hand.

“Alright, let’s go try some soup. I’m preparing to be impressed.”

“She did put a lot of effort in”, said Iwaizumi, “so you’d better like it.”

“I like everything your mom makes.” Oikawa bumped his side and moved close enough that he could feel the heat from his body. He scowled when Oikawa’s bag hit him, but didn’t move away, enjoying the extra warmth on an evening where the sunlight was rapidly fading.

“She only started trying new recipes when you started coming around. It’s like she wants you to keep coming back, for some reason.”

“Because she loves me”, Oikawa hummed.

“I suppose someone has to.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan”, said Oikawa, although he was laughing, and Iwaizumi sighed before letting his own laughter slip out.

Even with all of Oikawa's teasing and their many arguments, it was good that they had stopped being strangers, really. In the future, maybe, they would become strangers again, given that they had vastly different plans for the coming years. But, right then, Iwaizumi thought it was good to know Oikawa, because, for the first time in about a week, he really felt okay.

He didn't hesitate when he took Oikawa's hand a second time and was relieved when Oikawa turned to him with a smile, his face golden in the glowing light and his lovely eyes wide.

Yes. Whatever happened, this would have been worth it.


	3. Even More Afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter, and we're back with the Oikawa and Iwaizumi that we know and love :)
> 
> There are some manga spoilers in here, so don't read unless you're reading it or you don't mind being spoiled!

Following that one fateful Friday, Iwaizumi had two new objectives:

  1. Tell Oikawa what had really happened that day.
  2. Tell Oikawa how he really felt.



Surprisingly, it turned out the latter was far easier than the former. That one took less than a year.

The other took the better part of a decade.

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when he finally took the opportunity. Droplets pattered against the window of the small living area. Oikawa was watering their plants- and Iwaizumi had already argued with him that they could just leave them outside for the rain to get them, but Oikawa had informed him that no, too much water would not be good for them so it was best to keep them indoors and, besides, these were houseplants- whistling tunelessly all the while. The drizzle from the tiny blue watering can Oikawa usually kept by the sink blended seamlessly with the sounds of the steady downpour outside. Iwaizumi flicked through an English magazine relating to sports science that an old university friend from California had sent him.

After he had read the page he was on for the fifth time, unable to wrestle the thought from his mind, he said; “Tooru, there’s something I need to tell you.” Oikawa didn’t respond, though Iwaizumi figured he was listening. “Do you remember when I first confessed to you?”

“Yes”, Oikawa answered immediately.

They both did, of course: Iwaizumi had felt embarrassed but also like he couldn’t leave it any longer. They had been growing closer, in those final few months before they headed away for university, separated for so long for the first time, and Iwaizumi had largely guessed by that stage that his feelings were reciprocated. Still, actually voicing it was tough. The only thing scarier was the recurring nightmare Iwaizumi had that Oikawa would forget him, and the daytime fears that it really would happen, that the two would part and Iwaizumi would simply never see Oikawa again.

In the end, trying to avoid clichés, Iwaizumi had blurted it out while the two of them sat in Oikawa’s room, watching a game on Iwaizumi’s laptop. A lot of fond memories had been made in that room.

“Well…”, said Iwaizumi.

“Hm?” Oikawa was still only half-listening, given that he had taken so long to reply, more focused on the plants.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, attempting to find a delicate way to word it. He quickly found there wasn’t one. Best to just come out with it.

“I first decided to confess to you because that day, about six months before, when I was sick and missed that game, I accidentally woke up in an alternate universe where we weren’t friends and I met this alternate version of you, except you played for Shiratorizawa, and he said the reason I had gone to the other universe was because I had argued with you and I needed to realize how much you meant to me.”

The watering can kept on pouring over leaves and fronds. “Sure thing, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “Are you listening to me?”

“I stopped when you started making fun of me.” Oikawa finally turned and pouted at Iwaizumi, setting the can down. His eyes were bright, yet sleepy; the storm the night before had rendered them both tired today.

Iwaizumi glared. How could Oikawa, Oikawa of all people be so disparaging when it came to this?

“I’m serious! It really happened!”

Oikawa tilted his head, considering, and then moved to join Iwaizumi on the couch. “Of course it did.”

“What’s so hard to believe about that? When you believe in… In all this other stuff.” He waved his hand in the air, and from Oikawa’s pinched face he knew that Oikawa knew he meant the weird documentaries Oikawa would insist they sit up late to watch.

“You make fun of me for believing ‘in all this other stuff’, so, yes, I find it hard to believe my boyfriend went to an alternate universe years ago and never brought it up.” Even as he said it, he leaned into Iwaizumi’s arms, taking the opportunity to burrow under the one he had lifted, a warm and sturdy presence against Iwaizumi’s side.

Iwaizumi could have protested against Oikawa’s sudden affection and withdrawn it, or he could have made fun of Oikawa for calling Iwaizumi his boyfriend- something that, even after all these years, still brought a blush to his face- or maybe he could have tried to convince Oikawa some more about the other world he had entered.

But he childishly muttered; “The other you believed me.”

Oikawa snorted. “Go date him then.”

“No, I think he liked the other me.”

“Oh, there’s another you now, too?”

“It’s another universe, Tooru, there were other versions of everyone.”

Oikawa buried his face in Iwaizumi’s neck and shuddered, his breath tickling at Iwaizumi. “Oh god, another Matsun and Makki.”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi thought back to the vague memories he had of that day; mostly flashes of certain scenes and various snippets of dialogue now. “Another Ushijima, too.”

He felt Oikawa make a face against his shoulder and leaned down to kiss his hair, glad for once that he could reach the crest of Oikawa’s head. Oikawa had largely gotten over his hatred of Ushijima now, Iwaizumi knew, given that he and Ushijima had become friends through Ushijima's father in California, Still, Oikawa would never admit to it.

Leaning in, he whispered in Oikawa’s ear; “Another Tendou.” He pressed another kiss to the soft skin next to it, and then added; “Another Kageyama.”

“Are you _sure_ it wasn’t just a fever-induced nightmare?”, Oikawa muttered, voice thick, and Iwaizumi smiled.

“I wondered that myself.”

They were silent for a moment. Oikawa was comfortably heavy against his side. Iwaizumi could feel their hearts beating out of sync yet in tandem, each one striking in the silence of the other, one after another.

He asked; “Do you believe me?”

Oikawa lifted his head up to look at Iwaizumi, and his mouth twisted one way and then another, considering, before he seemed to settle on an answer. “I don’t think you’re lying to me…” His face turned to a stony glare. “But why would it happen to you and not me?”

Of course, he would be jealous of that situation. Iwaizumi held back a laugh. “Because I’m the idiot that needed to sort his feelings for you out, probably.”

“Hm. I guess I should be grateful to the other me, for that. I'm surprised the universe or whatever didn't send you back again, though, since it apparently took you so long after to confess.”

Iwaizumi let one hand drift up to stroke at Oikawa’s hair as he spoke. He elected to ignore the jibe at the end. “Yeah, he gave me some good advice. He was a smart guy. And funny.” Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. “Handsome, too.”

Blushing slightly, his eyes still narrowed, Oikawa said; “I can’t tell if you’re trying to compliment me or make me jealous.”

Iwaizumi shrugged, as much as he was able to with Oikawa’s weight on him. Meeting Oikawa’s eyes, he grinned. He wasn’t sure either. Oikawa must have known, because he elbowed Iwaizumi in the ribs- gently, thankfully- and then leaned back down, rested his head in the crook of Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

And, because he could be so sappy sometimes that he embarrassed even himself, Iwaizumi whispered; “I’m glad you’re you, and I’m me, and we got to meet.”

Oikawa would usually make fun of him, or start being annoying. However, he must have been tired, because he just mumbled; “How lucky are we?”

Iwaizumi hummed and closed his eyes, listening to the continuous pattering of the rain. That day had been one of the most confusing and terrifying of his life, and he was glad it was now a distant memory. Yet he wouldn’t change anything that had happened since. He and Oikawa had spent time apart over the years, but they always had each other to come home to. That probably would have been the case, whether that Friday had happened or not, but that small push in the right direction could have made all the difference, for all he knew.

Before they knew it, they were both asleep and, when they opened their eyes again, the rain had stopped.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I wrote this when I should have been working on my other stories, so I hope someone out there enjoys it!


End file.
